


There And Beyond

by Mimm



Category: Jake 2.0
Genre: First Time, M/M, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-01
Updated: 2005-12-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimm/pseuds/Mimm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working a case and going undercover in a gay bar. You know, the usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There And Beyond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enigel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigel/gifts).



> Written for the Yuletide 2005 Challenge.

It was damn cold outdoors, Jake thought, as he dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his duffel. He looked around, wanting to see at least one good-looking woman with long thin legs and blonde hair, but there was not a single one of those in sight.

"Come on," Kyle said, pulling him forward. "We have to get in. Kevin."

"Right, _Anton_ ," Jake said, tasting the foreign name. He didn't feel like a Kevin and Kyle didn't look like an Anton, but that was who they were for the night. Kyle directed them through the crowd of people that was a line leading to a club. It was cold indoors as well, and Jake had no desire to depart with his coat, but he had to.

Kyle was already scanning the bar, looking at the people there, and Jake followed his example.

"Is he here?" he asked Kyle, his voice lower than normal.

"Can't see him, but we have time," Kyle said, leading them to the counter. The bartender looked at him and raised his brows in an inquisitive manner.

"Two beers," Kyle said, raising two fingers, and the bartender nodded. Jake paid only little attention to this, because he was more interested in knowing if their target, Stephan Santos, would arrive soon like he was supposed to. He was fully concentrated on the door and the people who got in when Kyle tapped him on the shoulder. Starting at the touch, he turned around and saw Kyle raising a bottle.

"There's a free booth," Kyle said, nodding, and Jake followed his gaze. He let Kyle lead them to the booth and sat down, and Kyle gave him the other beer bottle.

"So," Jake said, looking around. "We can check out the pretty ladies while we wait, right?" He gave Kyle a wink, taking a sip from his bottle. Kyle smirked at first, then laughed a little.

"You think I don't have a chance with a woman?" Jake asked, thinking that he knew how to play this game.

"It's not that," Kyle said, and he looked at the bar. "It's just that, well, look at them."

Jake looked at the people, and it was only then that he realized what was wrong.

"There are no women," he said lamely. "Is this some kind of a men's night, or..."

"I guess you could call it that," Kyle said, laughing.

Jake looked at the crowd and he saw the two guys in another booth. They were most likely unaware of everything that was going on around them, because they were too concentrated on each other and kissing. Jake turned his face away from them, concentrating on his bottle.

"Why are we here?" he asked, not wanting to leave the bottle out of his sight. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what else was going on in the shadowy corners of the bar, let alone the dance floor he could see further away.

"Stephan Santos comes here, that's why," Kyle said, and Jake raised his eyes and gave him a look. It seemed like Kyle had no problem being there, looking at the people.

"Don't you think someone could have mentioned it to me?" Jake asked. "It would've been nice to, you know, prepare myself."

"Why? You would've put on something pink? Combed your hair differently? Used a different aftershave?"

"Ha. You're funny," Jake said, snorting and taking another gulp of his beer. He had a feeling he might need more than just one bottle to get through this night.

For a long while, neither one of them said anything. Jake was trying to get a hold of himself, because he realized he was probably being stupid. Kyle, on the other hand, seemed to be looking at the crowds most of the time.

"Listen," Kyle finally said. "I'll be right back." He got up and left Jake there, and before Jake could say a thing he was already all by himself. He looked after Kyle who was walking towards the counter. He said something to the bartender, apparently asking him to step aside for a moment, because soon the two of them stepped into the room behind the counter. Jake could no longer see either one of them. He turned back to look at their table, picked up a napkin and started tearing it into small pieces he stuffed into the ashtray. He needed something to keep him preoccupied.

Soon Kyle came back with the bartender following him. Jake was looking at Kyle as he walked back, and he couldn't help noticing that people were looking at him. He also noticed that Kyle was looking back at them, nodding and smiling.

"What was that?" Jake asked when Kyle returned to the booth.

"I talked to the bartender and showed him the picture. He hasn't seen Santos here, so he hasn't come yet."

"No, I meant the... Never mind."

"What?"

"I said never mind."

"As you wish."

They were quiet again, and Jake was starting to feel like an ass. What the hell was the matter with him?

"Okay," Jake said. "I'm just going to ask you."

Kyle looked at him, and there was a vague smile on his face. Damn, Jake thought. Damn. He couldn't ask the question.

"Yes, I've been to these places before," Kyle said, and it wasn't the answer Jake was waiting for, because he wasn't going to ask that, but it was still informative enough.

"You have?" he asked. "What was the last case?"

"No case," Kyle said, but didn't continue. Instead, he drank the rest of the beer in one gulp and set the bottle back on the table. Jake didn't know if he was supposed to ask him for more information or let it be, so he decided to settle for the latter option. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Anton!" someone shouted, and both Jake and Kyle turned towards the source. It was a well-dressed man of about fifty or so -- probably some kind of a businessman if the clothes were anything to judge by -- and he was smiling at Kyle. Then he turned his gaze towards Jake. Something about his eyes made Jake feel uncomfortable.

"Who's this?" the man asked. "Well, aren't you pretty." He extended his hand and Jake took it, trying to smile back at the man.

"This is Kevin," Kyle said, and his voice didn't waver one bit. It was as if Jake really was Kevin. "We're just having drinks, that's all."

"Sure," the man said, winking at Jake. "Just make sure you don't get too drunk or things will get a little difficult. You know what I mean."

Before Jake could figure out who he was or why he was there, he was already gone. Dumbfounded, Jake stared after him, then turned his eyes towards Kyle.

"What the hell was that?" he asked.

"He's Tom. A harmless man most of the time. Comes here every now and then."

"You mean you... Tom? And he knows you?"

"We've talked."

"But... but Anton? Is that why you chose to be Anton?"

Kyle shrugged, but he didn't seem quite so mellow as before. It was almost as if he was nervous about something. Nervous or uncomfortable.

"It's a name and it's not my real name," Kyle said, and there was nothing Jake could say about that. "I'll go and get us more beer."

Kyle stood up and walked to the counter, and after a while he came back, holding two bottles and giving the other one to Jake.

"Thanks," Jake said, feeling guilty. He felt like he had done something wrong, even when he couldn't figure out what it was. Then Kyle stood up again.

"I'll be right back," he said, then turned around and walked away, but not towards the counter or the dance floor. He was walking towards a door, and when Jake concentrated on it he saw that it lead to the men's room. He watched as Kyle disappeared inside.

While Kyle was away, Jake looked around at the people. What had at first felt like a shock at was now starting to feel almost normal. He didn't turn his eyes away whenever he saw two guys kissing, and when someone noticed him and looked at him, he looked back and grinned a little. It was strange, but not as bad as he would have thought. Then Kyle came back and sat down, and Jake examined his expression, trying to figure out if he was in a good mood or a bad one.

"It's past midnight already," Kyle said. "He was supposed to be here by ten and he hasn't showed up, so I expect he's not coming tonight."

"So, what are we gonna do?"

"I say we get out of here."

Kyle was already getting ready to leave when Jake stopped him.

"Hey, can't we at least drink these?" he asked, nodding towards the beer bottles. "Why waste perfectly good beer while we're here?"

Kyle looked at him for a long time without saying a word, then he relaxed in his seat and picked up the bottle. "Sure, why not," he said, and he sounded a little less edgy than a moment earlier. Jake felt relieved. He wasn't sure what he had done, but it seemed that he was finally doing something right.

"So. Anton. You come here often?" Jake asked, aiming for light-heartedness, but it seemed to fail because Kyle was only looking at him in an "Are you serious?" kind of way.

"I mean, you seem to feel like at home around these people here, and that guy Tom knows you, and I think he was hitting on me or something."

"He wasn't," Kyle said, and he sounded amused. "He does that to everyone who looks under thirty."

Jake wasn't sure if he should feel offended or disappointed. Probably neither.

"But yeah, I sometimes come here," Kyle continued. "Here I'm Anton, at some other places I'm Kyle. Depends on the place, the company, and my mood."

This was certainly a new aspect to Kyle Jake had never realized. Then again, they had rarely talked about Kyle's personal life. Or Jake's, for that matter. It seemed like one of those things that weren't talked about because there was really nothing to talk about. If one of them had a girlfriend or was getting married, then maybe they'd mention them a little more often, but when there was nobody, just a possible date or two, it didn't matter.

"Oh. Okay."

"Are you?" Kyle asked, and he leaned in closer to Jake.

"Am I what? Gay? No," Jake said quickly before he had even thought about it. He didn't feel gay. He was sure he would know if he was.

Kyle laughed. "No, I meant are you okay?"

"Right," Jake said, wanting to either run away or hide his face. "I am."

"Come on, we should leave," Kyle said, and this time Jake didn't disagree. He drank the rest of the beer at one go and put the bottle back on the table, next to the other three bottles and the half-torn paper napkin.

"What if that Santos guy comes here after we've left?" he asked.

"He won't. He would've come already if he was supposed to come today. We'll have to come back tomorrow unless Lou's heard something new."

Great, Jake thought to himself. He wasn't sure whether he liked that idea or not.

* * *

The ride in the cab was silent; possibly the most silent one Jake had ever experienced while still having company. The first one to get off was Jake who lived closer. He looked out the window, at the bright fluorescent lights around them and the people who were huddled up in their winter coats, trying to keep warm. In the cab, it was nice and warm despite the strange atmosphere. The view became more and more familiar, and finally they reached his apartment. Jake paid the driver and opened the door.

"I, uh..." he started. "I don't suppose you'd like to come in for another drink?"

He was possibly a little insane, said a small voice inside his head, but he tried to ignore it.

"I mean, of course you don't because we were just in a bar, so you've had enough drinks, so yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

Idiot.

He cursed to himself as he got up, wondering if he could just walk to the door and step inside without turning around once to see Kyle's expression. Or the cab driver's expression, for that matter. He shut the door and was about to wave a goodbye to Kyle when he heard another door being opened. He looked up and he saw Kyle. He was standing by the cab, grinning.

"A drink sounds good," Kyle said, and Jake tried to smile at him, but it probably turned out to be something else.

The cab drove off and they were standing there, a few feet away from each other. Kyle started walking towards him, the snow crunching under his feet, his breathing turning into puffs of white air.

"I don't really have anything but beer and vodka," Jake said apologetically. A part of him wished that Kyle would cancel the evening and get another cab to take him home. The other part... Jake wasn't sure what that part wished for.

He lead them to the door, fumbled for the key with hands that seemed to be a little shaky. The lock clicked and the door opened, and he kept it open so that Kyle could step in.

In the elevator, neither one of them seemed to have anything to say. Jake looked at himself in the mirror, at his pale face and red cheeks, and from himself his gaze slid slowly to Kyle's back. He was wearing a brown coat that looked warm and nice. His scarf was a darker shade of brown. Jake wondered if it was warm or if it just looked nice.

They walked to the apartment in silence, and when the door was shut, Jake put on the safety chain and turned the lights on. The place was mostly in order, which was good enough for him. Silently, Kyle walked around, looking at the books Jake had on the shelves and the photos of him as a kid. There were also some souvenirs his mother had insisted he put up on the shelves.

"That one's from Thailand," he said when he noticed Kyle looking at a certain wooden figure he personally thought was one of the ugliest things he had ever seen. "Mom bought it from some street market and then gave it to me, telling me it would bring me luck."

"Did it?" Kyle asked, turning around.

"Not that I've noticed."

"Well, it looks..."

"Ugly. You can say it. It's hideous and I wish I could get rid of it, but she'd be upset and you don't want to upset my mother."

"She sounds like a nice lady," Kyle said, smiling.

"You say that now."

Kyle sat down, and Jake disappeared into the kitchen.

"You want that drink? There's vodka and some lemonade," he asked loudly, hoping Kyle heard him.

"Not really."

"Okay," Jake said, trying to sound casual even when he was feeling anything but. He was certainly going to have a drink whether Kyle wanted one or not.

Carrying the ice cold drink in his hand, he entered the living room where Kyle was still sitting on the sofa, looking around. Jake sat down on the other end of the sofa and took a sip from the glass and put it down.

"How come you never said anything?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"It never came up," Kyle replied. "Plus you didn't ask."

"Do you really ask people such things?"

Kyle was quiet for a while.

"Probably not."

Jake looked at the black screen of the television. He could see the reflection of him and Kyle, sitting on the same sofa yet far away from each other as if they were scared of each other. He took a deep swig from the glass, almost emptying it, and leaned back, his head against the backrest. After a while he felt the familiar buzz of alcohol rushing to his head, and everything felt better. Easier.

"What's it like?" he asked, his eyes closed. He kept seeing Kyle right in front of him, wearing a black sweater and laughing and talking about his high school years. Why was Jake thinking about that right now? It had happened weeks ago.

"It's not that different," Kyle said, and his voice sounded comfortably distant. "You just know better how the other one feels when you have sex."

"You make it sound great," Jake said, smiling to himself with his eyes closed.

"It is," Kyle replied, laughing. "It's sex."

"Yeah."

Was it? It probably was. And sex... sex wasn't bad. At least not when it was with someone you liked. At least a little. Jake liked Kyle a lot. He was both Jake's supervisor and his friend. There were worse people to have sex with.

He had no idea what he was thinking or why. He drank the rest of his drink and shut his eyes tightly. He wasn't sure he wanted to open them.

"I'm not expecting you to do anything," Kyle said then. Jake felt a little disappointed but wasn't sure why.

"Why not? Don't you think I'd be any good?" He didn't know where it came from, but he felt the need to say those words. He felt the need to hear the answer.

"I wouldn't know, would I?" Kyle asked, and there was a hint of smile in his voice. "But I think you'd be okay."

He's thought about it, Jake thought to himself. He liked that idea, even when it was terrifying.

"Sorry," he said as he got up quickly and headed towards the bathroom. "Be right back." Damn those beers.

When he washed his hands he looked at himself in the mirror, and he noticed he looked nervous. Almost scared. He didn't want to, because it was such a silly situation to be scared of -- Kyle was his friend and he could have trusted Kyle with his life if it ever came to that -- but he couldn't escape the feeling that this was a little too much even for him. Something was going on. Something he had never done before, and definitely not with someone like Kyle. It was probably normal to be a little afraid, but it still bothered him. He wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything, what with his super abilities and all. Yet here he was, in his bathroom, not sure if he was ready to step out.

Anything could be waiting for him on the outside.

He drank cold water straight from the tap, took a few deep breaths, and put his hand on the door handle. He couldn't spend the rest of the evening in the bathroom.

When he stepped out, Kyle was standing next to the sofa and looking at him. He was only wearing his jeans and a t-shirt. The rest of his clothing had disappeared somewhere. Jake wasn't sure where exactly.

"Uh," he started. "Are you staying overnight?"

"If you don't mind," Kyle said. "I can sleep on the sofa."

"Yeah, sure."

Jake turned around and headed towards the closet where he kept the sheets. He picked up a few of them and brought them to the sofa. He was handing them to Kyle who took them and dropped them onto the other end of the sofa. Then he concentrated on Jake.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You've been really tense today."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jake said, wishing it hadn't been quite so obvious.

"Nothing's going to happen," Kyle said, not moving away. "Unless you want, of course."

Jake froze. "I've never done it."

"I figured as much," Kyle said, chuckling, his voice soft.

It was so close. All Jake had to do was say the words. Maybe even one word would do. He found the idea tempting... terrifying, certainly, but tempting. Maybe it was the alcohol, although he hadn't drunk very much. Maybe he was coming down with something, what with it being wintertime and everything.

He didn't say a thing, but Kyle raised his hand and touched Jake's lips with his thumb. He smiled, and Jake smiled back.

"You don't have to," Kyle said. "But I wish you did."

"Oh. Okay."

Kyle came closer and put his hand on Jake's shoulder, pulling him closer and kissing him lightly, lips brushing against lips. Jake had no idea what to do -- or, he did but he found his body completely incapable of doing what it was supposed to do -- and he simply stood there, still, thinking that it felt a little different than his usual kisses, but not in any way worse. Just different.

"God," Kyle whispered, his forehead against Jake's. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

Jake smiled. "Oh, really?"

"Really."

And then Kyle kissed him again, only this time the kiss wasn't quite so light. Jake felt Kyle's hands cupping his face, fingertips brushing at his neck, making his skin tingle. He opened his mouth a little, not thinking about what he was doing so much as _feeling it_. There was an aftertaste of beer Kyle had drunk at the bar, and Jake found himself enjoying it. Upon realizing what he was doing, he pulled himself away. Not much, but enough to cause Kyle to open his eyes.

"I don't know," Jake said.

"It's okay," Kyle said, and he took off his shirt. "Just do what feels good." His voice felt hot against Jake's skin when he leaned into kiss Jake's throat just below his ear.

"This does," Jake said, melting to the touch, trying to figure out where to put his hands and what to do with them. It felt strange to touch Kyle like this. He felt so familiar and foreign at the same time, and Jake wasn't sure which one he liked more. Possibly the combination of both. He felt Kyle taking a hold of his wrists, guiding them where he wanted them, around his waist, and Jake felt the warmth of the skin. Carefully, as if afraid he might bruise him, he pressed his fingers against the skin. This caused Kyle to press closer to him and he made a sound Jake could feel going through his whole body. He wanted to hear that sound again.

Kyle was unbuttoning his shirt as fast as he could while still kissing him. Jake tried to help him by unbuckling his belt, but it was difficult because he had never done it before. Not to someone else. The girls he went out with never had any buckles to unbuckle. Feeling like a schoolboy, he started laughing, and Kyle had to pull out from the kiss.

"Let me," Kyle said, opening the belt, pulling it out of the loops and throwing it on the floor. He unbuttoned his jeans but didn't take them off, for which Jake was grateful. All this was still new to him and he wasn't sure he knew what he was doing. It was possible that he, in fact, didn't.

Jake took off his shirt and felt naked. It didn't last for long, because soon Kyle was touching him again, and pushing him towards something, and Jake tried very hard to stay upright and not fall over. Finally he felt the cold wall against his back, and he felt a shiver go through him.

Touching Kyle felt natural now, and he noticed he wanted nothing more than to keep touching him, touch his skin and his neck and his sides, his back and his stomach and his face and lips. He wanted to taste him, wanted to kiss him until his lips were raw. He was vaguely aware of the sounds he was making in the back of his throat -- sounds that he heard Kyle making every now and then when Jake did something with his fingers. A part of him was still surprised by it all, but a bigger part of him knew that it would have come to this eventually. It had probably always been there, waiting for him to acknowledge it.

Moving on instinct rather than sense, Jake let his hands slide lower and lower, pressing against Kyle through the jeans. This made Kyle groan between the kisses, and Jake felt like he couldn't have enough of that sound. He let his fingers travel on the other side of the waistband, inside, deeper, and that was when Kyle pulled away.

"What?" Jake asked, out of breath. He had a feeling he had done something wrong. But that was not the case, because the next thing he knew, Kyle was kicking off the jeans and pulling Jake by his hand towards the sofa where he pushed Jake down.

"Much nicer here," Kyle smiled, climbing between Jake's legs, and Jake smiled back.

"You're the boss," he said, looking up at him. "I'm just helplessly following your example."

"Oh, you're not helpless," Kyle said, and soon he leaned in to kiss Jake again, and he started pulling Jake's jeans off, which turned out to be a harder task than Jake would have wished. He felt like he couldn't get rid of them quickly enough, but soon he was free, and he couldn't believe there could be that much bare skin. He was pulling Kyle down to him, biting him on the shoulder and the neck, sucking and kissing him.

Jake wanted nothing more than to have Kyle close to him, when he suddenly felt Kyle's hand, and Jake let out a muffled cry because it felt almost too much. Kyle grinned against his mouth, laughing a little, and Jake laughed back.

"God, you're killing me," he muttered.

"I try," Kyle replied, and Jake believed him, because _oh god_ the touch was intense and he didn't know how he could possibly bear it, and the strokes were firm and rough, not what he was used to, and he realized that this was what he wanted, nothing else, and he laughed at the realization. It was cut short because soon he felt like he was dying, and he let out a harsh cry as he came all over the sofa.

"Shit," he said, his voice barely a whisper. He forgot all about the stains when he noticed that Kyle was still hard, and without thinking more about it, Jake took him in his hand, thinking that it didn't feel that different from touching himself, and he knew exactly what to do and how, and judging by the sounds Kyle was making he was doing it right.

Kyle let out a long "God!" as he came, and he was panting hard and fell on the sofa right into Jake's arms, and they sat there, next to each other, spent and tired, and Jake leaned against the backrest, smiling to himself. He put his hand on Kyle's shoulder, pressing it a little as a silent thank-you.

"I had no idea," he said. "I just... wow."

"You weren't bad yourself," Kyle muttered, his eyes still closed.

"I don't know about you but I need a shower," Jake said, and he really wanted to get up but found he had no energy to do it.

"Yeah, me too."

"Maybe later."

"Yeah. Later."

Jake looked at the sheets he had brought there earlier, and he picked one of them, opened it and gave it to Kyle who took it.

"Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome," Jake replied, taking another sheet for himself. Then the two of them just sat there, quietly, and all Jake could hear was the clock that was ticking in the kitchen.

"You know," he said after a long silence. "I really hope they haven't caught that Santos guy yet."

"So do I," Kyle said, laughing.

It felt like a silly thing to think about, but Jake realized he actually had a kind-of date for the next night. With Kyle. A nice way to combine work with fun, he thought, closing his eyes. He would go to the shower in a minute. He just needed to rest for a moment. Just a moment.

Or maybe two.


End file.
